


resolve

by queerly_yours



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Human, Established Relationship, M/M, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-20
Updated: 2015-10-20
Packaged: 2018-04-27 05:42:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5036029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queerly_yours/pseuds/queerly_yours
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jackson knew if he didn’t get up and pick up another six pack of Red Bull or, at the very least, and red eye, he wouldn’t finish what he’d planned to work on tonight. As it was, the words and symbols were beginning to blur on the page, run together in obscurity. He whined into his textbook.</p>
<p>“You okay?” he heard from behind him and shit, he hadn’t even heard his door open.</p>
            </blockquote>





	resolve

**Author's Note:**

> Imagine person A of your OTP is struggling with studying. Their eyes are tired and they’re fed up with reading and all the words seem to be swimming on the page.
> 
> In an attempt to help out, person B, who currently has less commitments than A in regards to their time, sits with them and reads to them from the material they need to know in the hopes that A might find it a nicer way to study.
> 
> How things go from there is up to you.

As the last week of their first year at college rapidly approached, Jackson holed himself away in his dorm to study. High school was easier for him in more ways than one. It’s not that he wasn’t smart, but his popularity gained him favor with many teachers, but here, in college, there were no favors or tricks he could pull to get extra credit, so he was forced to buckle down and really study.

He was five hours into this study session for bio. He wasn’t even a science major, but it was part of the core curriculum. He cursed the poor bastard who thought that a business law major needed to know how the body worked, leaned down to grab another Red Bull, but he found an empty mini-fridge.

Now he cursed for real, laying his head down on his tiny, abused desk, lamenting his luck. The dorm room was alright, at least he had a single, but it was small and didn’t allow for him to bring his own things. He was stuck with a creaky twin sized bed that smelled faintly of sweaty socks, a wooden desk, and a small, broken wardrobe that sat caddy cornered to the bed, leaving him approximately three feet to move around.

Jackson knew if he didn’t get up and pick up another six pack of Red Bull or, at the very least, and red eye, he wouldn’t finish what he’d planned to work on tonight. As it was, the words and symbols were beginning to blur on the page, run together in obscurity. He whined into his textbook.

“You okay?” he heard from behind him and shit, he hadn’t even heard his door open. He raised and turned his head, propped himself up on his hand, tried to make out the face in front of him. Two merged into one, he blinked rapidly, clearing the fog from his mind.

“Stiles?” he asked, eyebrows furrowed. “What are you doing here?” His words slurred together. He didn’t realize how tired he was. Just another hour and he’d go to bed.

Stiles raised his eyebrows, smiled a little, though Jackson could tell he was worried. “You look like shit, Jacks. How long have you been in here? It smells like sugar and stale Chinese.” He came closer, placed his hand on Jackson’s cheek, rubbed his thumb over his beautiful cheekbone. “You need some sleep. Let’s lay down for a while,” he said in soft, soothing tones trying to coax Jackson away from his desk, but Jackson’s eyes hardened.

“No,” he said petulantly, shaking Stiles’ hand off his face. “I just need one more hour.”

“God, you’re stubborn. Have you even looked in a mirror lately? Can you even read those words right now? Because you’re practically cross-eyed right now.”

Jackson sniffed, crossed his arms over his broad chest in response.

Stiles huffed in both annoyance and concern, but Jackson looked up at him and their eyes met. Cool, liquid blue to warm, honey and his resolve melted away. His lips quirked into a half-smile. “How about I read you the rest of this chapter while we lay in bed?” Jackson squinted his eyes at him. “Hey, I’m just trying to help here,” Stiles said, raising his hands in a gesture of defeat.

“Fine,” Jackson grumbled, “But no funny business.”

At that, Stiles laughed. “Please. I like my boyfriend at  _attention_  when I want funny business if you know what I mean.” He grabbed the textbook, settled on the bed, patting beside him when Jackson eyeballed him.

Jackson sat closely, desperately trying not to fall asleep to the soft lull of Stiles’ voice. Stiles wasn’t delicate or sweet-natured by any means, he was sarcastic and stubborn, clever and a little wicked. But there were times when his concern for Jackson’s wellbeing outweighed all the snark and sass that he was capable of dishing out. This was one of those times. Jackson sighed contentedly, laid his head on Stiles’ shoulder. He felt himself blinking slower and slower with each passing moment. It wouldn’t take long before he passed out, he knew.

The last thing he remembered before falling asleep was the soft brush of Stiles’ lips on the top of his head, the sweet words that tumbled out of his boyfriend’s mouth,  _I love you. Sleep well._ He looked forward to waking up on that smelly mattress in that shitty dorm room because he knew that he would be wrapped up in Stiles’ arms feeling loved, warm, and at home.


End file.
